


Double Life

by sunmoonandstars



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 05:39:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10892841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunmoonandstars/pseuds/sunmoonandstars
Summary: Mostly, the constant battles between Boston's resident superhero, Nova, and his nemesis (nicknamed Loki) don't bother the people of the city. It's kind of a fact of life: major cities draw the heroes and the villains and their squabbles.Persephone Icebane is no different. Just another college kid, working in between classes to pay her mom's medical bills, spending her nights studying or out with her best friend. The restaurant where she lives is pretty much like every other part of her life, until Liam starts coming in. Once a week, like clockwork. At first they don't talk. Then they do, and Seph decides she likes him.But Liam's got a secret. Or lots of secrets. And no secret can hide forever.





	Double Life

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm pretty sure that description is terrible–I suck at writing them–but hopefully it gets the point across. I wrote this story (novella? I don't even know) in the span of three days and I haven't edited much, so forgive me if there's any problems. I saw a prompt on Tumblr from @the-modern-typewriter and ended up writing this, which is a play on the whole hero/villain trope we get in comics. I had a ton of fun writing it and I hope it's a good read! 
> 
> PS: To anyone coming here from my Avengers fic, Cruel Vengeance: Yes, I gave this supervillain the nickname Loki. He causes chaos and casts illusions and I have the Avengers on my head. Yes, I've now used the name Liam in both stories. Anyone who's read Cruel Vengeance will probably figure out the twist here, not that it's very subtle. I have no regrets B)

Something was burning in the kitchen.

Seph slammed open the door. “Please don’t tell me you set the oven on fire again.”

“Nope!” A face blackened by grease and smoke popped up over the counter, smiling at her. “Just the pizza.”

Seph squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh my God. Adrian–”

“I know, I know,” he said, scrambling upright. “But it’s okay, I have another one in the other oven–”

“Do you regularly just make doubles on all the food in case you burn it?” Seph demanded, yanking out the pizza in question and sliding it onto a plate.

“No. That was supposed to be my dinner.”

“Oh happy coincidence,” Seph said. “Make more. Where’s the parsley?”

“Fridge, top shelf.”

Seph sprinkled parsley over the pizza, grabbed a pitcher of water, and glared at Adrian. “You better have that cleaned up in the next ten minutes or Marya is going to go postal,” she warned. “Pull Dom off serving duty if you need help cooking, it’s not busy right now.”

Adrian’s face went pale beneath the dark smears covering it. “Okay.”

Seph pushed back out into the restaurant, finessing the doors and the crooked tripwire floorboard with the ease of practice. It was an old building, and it had what her mom would’ve called “character,” meaning that every one of the years it’d stood was marked on the walls or floor or ceiling in some way. Scratches, scorch marks, creaky boards, doors that didn’t close all the way. Not to mention the smell, that distinct scent of genuine Italian places. Seph was pretty sure the walls had absorbed that smell and it’d still give off _eau de Italy_ even if they sold the place and turned it into an art gallery or something.

“Here you are,” she said. “Pizza with sausage and mushrooms. May I refill your water?”

The customer at table six looked up at her and smiled. “Of course. Do I smell something burning?”

Seph grinned, leaning in with the pitcher. “That was your dinner, I have to admit. Our evening cook, Adrian–he’s a genius with food but _so_ accident-prone. He almost blew up the oven last week, and somehow your pizza caught fire, but he conveniently happened to be cooking another one.”

He laughed. Watched her almost hungrily. Seph bit her lip to distract herself from the fact that he kind of turned her on when he looked at her like that. “So I suppose there is another customer going without food at the moment?”

Seph glanced around the restaurant. Only three sections tonight, since it wasn’t too busy; Dom was in the back corner serving gelato and Eloise was seating a new couple. “Nope. Adrian was making his own dinner.”

“I would hate to keep your hard-working cook from his food,” he said.

She shrugged. “See, Adrian’s paid to eat that, you’re pay _ing_ to eat. You get precedence.”

“Well, in that case,” the man said, opening his wallet. “Pass this on to Mr. Adrian, if you would? And another for you. For the excellent service.”

Seph held two fifties in her hand. “I–I can’t–”

“Don’t they teach you not to argue with the customers?” he asked with a smile.

“Fair point.” Seph wasn’t too proud to take the windfall. She’d gotten a full ride when she made it into Harvard because her parents barely made any money, and every spare dime she had she sent home for her mom’s medical bills. She pocketed the money. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“It doesn’t look too busy,” her customer said, glancing around the room. “You could join me for a moment.”

Seph blinked.

Technically, he was right. Wednesdays were always kind of slow, and it was getting late. Her section was good for the moment–the two people seated in it were eating, and they were regulars–they knew her, and knew Marya, and never got too demanding. “I can do that.”

She slid into the booth across from him, sighing at how good it felt to get off her feet after the last three hours.

“You know, you’ve been coming in here Wednesday nights for six months, and I still don’t know your name,” she said. He always paid in cash.

He smiled–just a faint curve of one side of his mouth. A thin scar crossed his lips; she resisted the urge to stare at it and wondered how it had gotten there. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters,” she said.

He paused. “Liam.”

“Hi, Liam,” she said, grinning. “I’m Seph.”

“Is that short for something?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Persephone. _Such_ a mouthful. And don’t give me the “I’ll take you to Hell and back” line, I’ve heard that already. You’d think kids at an Ivy would be able to come up with something a little more original.”

“You to go Harvard?” he asked.

“Unless you know another Ivy in town.” She tensed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound arrogant–”

“Not at all,” he said, amused. “I’m hardly one to judge.”

Seph nodded a little bit. He did seem the self-satisfied type: always wearing nice clothes, the kind of elegant you couldn’t get without at dropping at least a thousand dollars. Somehow, even though he couldn’t have been more than a few years older than she was, he made it work. “You in college?”

He laughed in a way that didn’t invite her to share the joke. “Definitely not.”

“ _Were_ you, then?”

“At one point,” he said, grinning. “Didn’t like it very much. Too many people telling me what to do, what to learn. _Boring_.”

“What do you do?” Seph asked.

Liam smirked at her. “Take a guess.”

“Car sales.”

“No.”

“Bodyguard.”

He laughed again. “No.”

“Undercover spy for Iran.”

“Certainly not.”

Seph threw up her hands. “I don’t know, I’m terrible at reading people,” she admitted, smiling.

But she was a little on edge, realizing–that a lot of people didn’t like to hear that. Comforted her with words like _oh, I’m sure you’re fine,_ or, _don’t worry, I’m no good myself_ when she _knew_ neither of those things was true. Platitudes. So useless.

“There are other things worth being good at,” he said simply.

She blinked. That was–unexpected. But then again, he’d gotten her sense of humor this far. “That’s true.”

“What are _you_ good at, Persephone?” Liam said, almost like he was… tasting her name. Shit. Seph was starting to realize she liked him, in more than a one-night-stand kind of way. Not that she was particularly experienced in those. She’d only had sex four times since she and Ralph broke off their six-month relationship in freshman year.

She shrugged. “I’m good at plenty of things. I’m _really_ good at very few.”

“Clever distinction,” Liam said. “So what kind of things are you _really_ good at?”

If Seph were Vicki, she’d have responded with a sultry smile and something like _take a guess_. Well, and if Liam was a woman. Vicki didn't waste her smiles on men. But she was only herself, and Persephone Icebane didn’t have nearly enough courage for that. So she just grinned. “Sleight of hand.”

“Magic tricks?”

“It’s only magic if you don’t know how it’s done,” she said with a smirk.

“Show me.”

“Bossy,” she muttered.

Liam grinned. “Show me, please?”

“Much better.” He was leaning forward enough. Seph met him halfway and plucked a quarter from behind his ear. “Someone forgot to brush their hair this morning.”

“Must have been my cat,” he said, eyes dancing.

Seph glanced around, made sure she wasn’t neglecting anything. Nope, all good. “You don’t strike me as a cat person.” She spun the quarter through her fingers until it was a blur of silver and then vanished it into a Tellman hold.

Liam studied the platter of pizza; he’d barely touched it. “I’m not. I found him in an alley last year, bleeding out. Rescued him. Evidently he had a meltdown at the shelter and shredded everyone other than me. I kept him.”

“Kind of you.” Seph pulled out another quarter and did a trick she’d been practicing for a few weeks now; this one involved dropping a quarter into her pocket and appearing to cough the other one out of her mouth. It was extra tricky right after she’d spoken, but she managed. The impressed rise of Liam’s eyebrows told her she succeeded. “What’s his name?”

“Hindenburg.”

“What, like the airship?”

He laughed. It was a nice sound, if unpracticed. “Yes, like the airship. You’re the first person to catch that.”

“You must not get out much,” she said, setting the quarters spinning on the tabletop.

Liam shrugged. “Not many friends.”

“Seems weird,” she said, pretending to push the quarters through the table onto his knees.

Liam reached under the table and felt around, but the quarters were gone. “Where did–”

Seph showed him a palmful of coins.

“I felt them hit my knees!” he protested.

She snickered. “You sure? Because I’ve got four quarters right here that say otherwise.” Seph set them to spinning, two in each hand, back and forth. The pattern of movement was familiar. Soothing.

Liam shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. She hadn’t realized how knife-sharp all his smiles were until she got this one, which was softer. “Brava, my lady.”

 _I wish more men talked like you_ , Seph almost said.

She checked herself. “It’s been a lot of practice.”

One more glance around the restaurant. “I’ve got tables to clear,” she said. “Tips to collect. I’ll leave you to your pizza.”

Liam dipped his head. “Thank you for your time, Seph.”

“Until next week,” she said, and left the booth.

She felt him watching her for the next half hour, but Adrian flooded the pipes and Seph had to go play referee between him and their boss Marya, and Dom ended up settling Liam’s tab.

“He left this for you,” Dom said, shaking his head. “Said to give it _just_ to you.”

Seph looked at the fifty in his hand. “Keep it,” she said, thinking of the one in her pocket.

Dom grinned. “He gave me a twenty, and I’m not pissing off that dude. Scary eyes. Take the cash, Seph.”

Seph took the cash. Gave fifty to Adrian, like she’d promised, and spent the next week wondering who Liam was.

 

The next Wednesday, he strolled in and sat in her section, in what Seph was starting to think of as _his_ table. For the first month or two, he’d sat a different place every time, with his back to the wall and facing the door if he could manage it, but now he almost invariably requested to be seated at one of her tables. Seph grinned when she saw him and tugged her skirt straight before she headed over.

“Hi, L–oh my God, are you okay?”

Liam glanced up at her with a rueful grin. His right eye was swollen and vibrantly purple-red. “I’ve had better days, I’m afraid. You should have seen me on Monday.”

“You didn’t get caught up in that snafu on Ninth, did you?” Seph asked.

“You mean Loki and Supernova’s latest path of destruction?” he said, lips twisting in a way that looked painful, given that his lower lip was split and swollen, right by the scar. “No, this was… something else.”

Seph rolled her eyes. “Okay, how about this: tell me your order and I’ll throw in a bag of ice?”

“I accept,” he said, “if you join me again.”

Seph looked around. “Half an hour. I’ve got things to do.”

Half an hour turned into forty minutes, then a full hour, and the only time she saw Liam was when she dropped off his pizza, topped with bell peppers and sausage, and a bag of ice cubes wrapped in a towel.  

But he waited.

Things eventually died down. Seph dropped into the booth across from him. “That was crazy,” she said by way of a greeting.

Liam lowered the ice from his eye. “You’re not usually this busy on Wednesdays.”

“Is that why you come in Wednesdays?” she asked.

“Maybe I work late every other night,” he countered.

“Yeah, that’s possible,” she said. “But I’m pretty sure it’s what I said. At least partly.”

“You’re not wrong,” he said with a smile. Back to the sharp kind.

 _And since when are you cataloguing his smiles, Persephone?_ she scolded herself.

“Good pizza?” she asked. There were only two slices left.

“Delicious. Unfortunately, it was rather more than I could eat,” he said.

Seph’s stomach growled.

Liam laughed. “You can have what’s left.”

“Are you sure?” she said, even though she _really_ wanted a piece. Marya’s pizza–the only thing she wouldn’t let Adrian cook when she was in–was _divine_. Heaven on a plate.

“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise,” Liam said.

Seph grabbed a piece. “Very clever of you.”

Liam watched her eat the first few bites, and then tipped his head back with a sigh.

Seph paused. “Long day?”

“Long week, more like,” he muttered.

“Care to talk about it?”

He opened one eye and looked at her suspiciously.

“I’m not forcing you to answer,” she said, tearing the crust off. “Sometimes it helps to talk to people, but if you don’t want to, I won’t be offended. This is the second real conversation we’ve ever had.”

“We’ve spoken before,” he said, closing his eye again.

“Kind of.” Seph nudged his foot under the table. “Look, if you don’t want to talk, just say so.”

“No, I… appreciate your offer.” Liam frowned faintly. “It’s… difficult to explain, but–there’s a man I work with. We don’t get along well. He’s so caught up in his own righteousness that he doesn’t seem to understand any other perspective and it’s so damn _frustrating._ We–butt heads. A lot.”

“Did he give you that lovely shiner?” Seph asked. She finished the first piece of pizza and eyed the second one.

Liam smiled faintly. “No.”

“Pity. Then you’d have an excuse to punch him _back_.”

That startled a laugh out of him. Liam finally sat up, some of the bad mood evaporating. “What of you? How has your week gone?”

“Eh, so-so. My physics professor is an asshole.” Seph made a face. “He keeps assigning us _loads_ of busy work that takes _hours_ to complete and doesn’t actually teach us anything. I have to find other study materials to pass his tests, on my own time. And he’s never around for office hours, which is infuriating because he mixes up his grades half the time and you have to go talk to him and get them fixed. _And_ I’m pretty sure he’s going after his TA.” Seph shuddered. “I don’t even know Dean and I feel so bad for him.”

Liam leaned forward. “What’s his name?”

“The TA? Dean.”

“No, the professor.”

“Oh. Abbott–Eric Abbott. Why?”

Liam shrugged and sat back. “My cousin had a friend who went to Harvard. She used to complain about one of her professors, but that’s not his name.”

“I’m sure there’s more than one asshole professor,” Seph said darkly. “Abbott’s just the one I have to deal with.”

“Mmm.” Liam took a sip of water and watched her finish the second piece of pizza. “I seem to recall that you said you were particularly good at a few things,” he said. “Not just sleight of hand. May I ask what the others are?”

“You may,” she said with a grin. Everything seemed better when you’d just gone from hungry to full. Even the bills on her desk back in her room. “Picking pockets, for one. Goes with the sleight of hand. Makes for a good party trick. Sometimes I play musical phones with my friends. Out of one pocket, in another. And I’m apparently something of a prodigy in poly-sci, according to my professors.” Even if she disagreed with almost all of them.

“Not very humble, I see,” he said with a smile.

“Humility’s overrated.” Seph shrugged.

“I like to say that humility is simply hypocrisy in a nicer set of clothing,” Liam said.

Seph frowned. “As in, people downplay their accomplishments, and they think they’re humble, but they’re pretending not to value something they _do_ value? Or fishing for compliments?”

Liam looked briefly startled. “Exactly.”

“Interesting.” She smiled at him. “Glad I’m not a hypocrite.”

“As am I,” Liam said softly.

Seph’s phone buzzed. She glanced down at it–news notification–and shoved it away again.

“You major in poly-sci?” Liam asked.

“Double major. Poly-sci and economics. With a few psych classes thrown in, which has been _huge_ for my social skills, let me tell you.”

“You don’t seem at all awkward to me,” Liam said.

Seph snorted. “You’d be the first, then.”

But in honesty, she felt more sure of herself around him. She’d noticed it last week and was even more aware of it today.

“And taking psych classes seems like a far cry from the worst coping methods in the world,” he said.

“Heh. True. Better than… I don’t know, turning into a hermit. Or never having friends.” Seph made a face. “Not that I have many actual _close_ friends anyway. Really just Vicki.”

“I had a friend when I was younger,” Liam said. “He’d get shitfaced every time something happened he didn’t like.”

“Not a great way to get places in life,” Seph said.

“Nope,” Liam agreed. “He’s flipping burgers now.”

“Ouch.” She glanced at her watch. “Shit, I have to go help clean up. Dom’ll take over here. And don’t you _dare_ tip me outrageously again.” She didn’t want this to be… that kind of relationship. Seph had had customers who she smiled at–fake smiles–because it made them feel better and got her better tips. Liam, she smiled at because she liked him. Continuing to take his money would just make that weird.

“May I tip your friend Dom?” Liam asked.

Seph grinned. “Go for it. See you next week?”

Liam hesitated. “What time is your shift over?”

“Forty minutes,” Seph said.

“Would you care to go somewhere with me?” he asked.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Is that ‘somewhere’ your apartment?”

“No,” he said simply.

“You’re not going to lure me off somewhere and kill me, are you?”

He snorted. “No.”

“Okay. Good.” She thought about it. Technically, she still had some classwork left, but it was okay; she was a model student and she could take a night to herself. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“I’ll meet you out front,” he said with a smile.

 

Liam took her to the aquarium.

“Didn’t this place get wrecked by Loki last month?” she said, referring to Boston’s resident supervillain. Or the worst of them, anyway. Supernova mostly kept the small fish in check–fish, ha, what an appropriate metaphor–but Loki seemed invincible. According to the news, most of the bad things that happened in the city were Loki’s fault. Not that Seph was much inclined to love the news (or Supernova) just because someone told her to.

But those were the kind of unpopular opinions she’d learned to keep to herself.

Liam shrugged. “Someone made an anonymous grant, and they only wrecked the east wing. Nothing major.”

“That’s good,” she said drily. “Wait, how do you know that?”

“I have a friend that works here,” he said.

“Networking.” Seph nodded sagely. “Always a useful skill.  It’s past eleven, aren’t they closed?”

“Yes,” he said, and grinned at her. Streetlights cast sharp shadows across his angled face, accentuating his cheekbones and casting eyes that were normally a light gray into darkness. He looked dangerous and wild and sexy.

“I’m not planning on committing any felonies.”

Liam’s grin widened. “Of course not. I planned this, not you.”

Seph laughed. Tugged her hood up and followed him around the side of the building.

She knew this was stupid. But she also knew she had her knife in her pocket and six years of krav maga hiding in her muscles, and that if Liam tried to do anything, he’d find himself on the pavement unable to do more than whistle through a crushed trachea.

Fighting was the one skill she’d kept from him. It scared a lot of people. And it was always better to be underestimated.

But Liam was a perfect gentleman; he didn’t try to cop a feel or stick her with a blade or anything else. Just picked the lock on the employee door and slipped inside.

“Alarms?” she whispered to the darkness.

He touched the small of her back lightly, guiding her forward. “Not until one,” he breathed. “That’s when the last employee leaves, through that door. So we have about an hour.”

“To do what exactly?”

“Night fishing?” he suggested.

“You’re joking.”

He laughed. “Yeah. I’m joking. But trust me, you’ve never seen the aquarium until you’ve seen it at night.

And he was right.

Liam led her through winding low-level hallways until they slipped out a door and into the public areas of the aquarium. Seph’s eyes widened.

The only lights were greenish-blue bulbs set into the aquariums, casting everything into flickering shadow. The fish themselves were mysteries floating in the water, flashing from jewel-tones to darkness between one movement and the next as they drifted in and out of the light.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

“Yeah,” Liam agreed.

She glanced over. “You’re not looking at the fish.”

He smirked. “I wasn’t talking about them, either.”

Seph closed her eyes when he kissed her. It was light, probably because of his split lip, but not chaste. She leaned closer, and Liam ran a hand up her arm and across her shoulder with a featherlight touch that made her shiver, then cupped her cheek. His fingers found their way into her hair.

He was the first one to pull away, pausing almost hesitantly an inch away.

This close, Seph couldn’t quite focus on his eyes. He was a solid four, five inches taller, somewhere near six feet compared to her respectable five foot five inches, and she liked how this felt. Her stretching up and him bending down a bit. Meeting in the middle.

“You’re a good kisser,” she said.

He laughed into her mouth. “That’s reassuring. I’m a bit out of practice.”

“So am I,” Seph admitted.

“More fish?” he asked.

“Don’t get me arrested,” she said, and stepped back, grinning.

Liam smiled back. Everything was surreal and strange in this partially lit underwater world. He took her hand and gave her a tour of the aquarium.

One room after another slipped by. Sharks, piranhas, eels, clownfish, weird sucker things living on the glass. Seph’s favorite were the jellyfish. They seemed so helpless and eerie, drifting with the current, when really they were absolutely lethal.

“Time’s up,” Liam whispered at last, and snaked an arm around her waist. “Unless you’d like to sleep in here.”

“No thank you,” Seph murmured back, and pointed to the side. “That one’s staring at me. It’s creepy.”

“Go away,” he told the fish, and they fumbled their way back through the darkness of the aquarium. He didn’t let go of her waist, and Seph leaned into him. He was a comforting warmth at her side, and every now and then his hand would stroke up and down her ribcage, sparking heat in her core every time. Even through the plain black T-shirt she wore for work.

Footsteps sounded. Up ahead, and not theirs.

“Shit,” Liam whispered, “we’re late,” and then they were running, not very quietly either, through the hallways, and then someone shouted not very far away and a flashlight beam lanced through the hall behind them, and Seph’s heart was racing as Liam let go of her waist only to grab her hand and led her forward.

“Hey! Stop!”

A portly man crashed into the hallway behind them.

Liam spun around and looked. For a second, his eyes flashed green, reflecting the light from the aquarium, and when Seph tried to turn he tugged her onward.

Behind them, the guard stopped and called, “Hello?” with a lot less certainty.

“This way,” Liam whispered, and led her around one, two, three turns, out into the cool September evening.

They collapsed against a wall two blocks away, breathless and laughing, fingers entwined. When Liam looked at Seph, she realized her heart was still pounding, only this time it wasn’t from fear.

He kissed her again. It wasn’t soft this time. And even when she thought she tasted a little bit of his blood, even when he flinched just slightly after she caught his lower lip between her teeth, he didn’t pull away.

Liam backed Seph up to the wall. She ran her hands across the hard planes of his chest and up over his shoulders to reach into his soft black hair. He leaned into her, one hand creeping under her T-shirt at her waist and the other again holding her face. Cold bricks pressed into her back and a warm body pressed into her front.

Seph couldn’t remember the last time she felt this alive.

Eventually, they slowed.

Liam’s eyes glittered with adrenaline and hunger. Seph knew her own looked the same.

“Would you,” he said, and hesitated. “I… Can I take you out on Saturday?”

“Does it involve any more crimes?” Seph asked, laughing at him, and brushed a kiss over his neck. He shivered.

“No,” Liam said, voice hoarse. “All legal.”

“Then yes.” She kissed him again, just over his jugular. He swallowed and she smiled against his skin. “You can pick me up outside Baker Library at three.”

“Thank you,” Liam said. He still had a hand under her shirt, resting against her side. With the other, he brushed her curly dark brown hair out of her face. “Let me call an Uber. I’ll take you home.”

Seph studied him. “You know, after that, most guys would want to take me home.”

Liam traced a thumb over her lips, then her cheekbone. There was something predatory and intense in his eyes. “I want to do this right. Persephone.” He rolled the four syllables of her name over his tongue. “I don’t want to be ‘most guys’ for you.”

“Mission accomplished,” she said. “I’ve never been on a date anywhere _near_ as interesting as this.”

He smiled.

“Call that Uber,” she said, and did her best to distract him while he did it.

 

On Saturday, Seph showed up at Baker Library with Vicki in tow.

“I’m sorry,” she said when she found Liam. “I couldn’t ditch her. She’s like a barnacle.”

“So this is aquarium boy,” Vicki said, giving Liam a once-over. Then another one, appreciative. “Damn, Seph.”

“I told you I’m not desperate,” Seph said with a grin.

“I stand corrected.” Vicki linked her arms with Seph and Liam, dragging them along on either side of her. Seph met Liam’s eyes over Vicki’s head of platinum hair–her friend was barely five foot three when she stretched–and was relieved to see his eyes dancing with silent laughter.

“Am I permitted to ask where we’re going?” Liam asked.

“Holy poop, you talk like you swallowed a Jane Austen novel. Seph, where did you _find_ him?”

“Sabina’s,” Seph said.

“I need to work there. Tell me when there’s an opening. Anyway, aquarium boy, yes, since you asked so nicely, I am telling you that I am taking you two to the best ice cream on campus. I’m going to sit down, and you’re going to buy us dessert, and I’m going to make sure you’re not a creeper since Seph her can _not_ read people to save her life, and then you can take her on whatever felony you’ve got planned today.”

“No felonies,” Liam said. “This weather’s too fine for so much effort. Just a misdemeanor.”

Vicki barked a laugh. “I like you.”

“I’m taken.”

“Obviously,” Vicki said snidely.

Seph shook her head, laughing helplessly. “She’s been irrepressible all week,” she told Liam solemnly. “Trust me, this is tame. She wanted to hire a PI.”

“No, I wanted to do it myself,” Vicki said, and bumped her ever-present camera bag into Liam’s hip. “Photography major with a minor in criminology, meaning I know how to stalk people. I want to be a PI, you’d have been good practice.”

Seph winced.

Liam winked at her over Vicki’s head. _It’s fine_ , he mouthed.

 _Sorry_ , she mouthed back.

He shook his head, smiling.

“Stop talking over my head,” Vicki demanded. “Just because I’m short doesn’t mean I’m oblivious. Oh look, ice cream.”

They found a seat at a booth. Liam slid in next to Seph. Vicki, sitting across from them, scanned the menu, ordered three of the daily special, and complimented the server on her neon green Doc Martens all in the first minute.

“She’s a powerhouse,” Liam commented.

“You should see her on caffeine,” Seph muttered darkly. “It’s terrifying. She was _literally_ bouncing off of walls.”

“I think I terrorized Miss Anderson,” Vicki said, laughing.

“She _was_ out “sick” for a week right after,” Seph said. “Remember that sub?”

“Oh _yes_ ,” Vicki said, and looked at Liam. “He had an actual, literal _handlebar mustache_ and a face shaped like an upside down teardrop so the mustache stuck out like two inches on either side of his face and it _didn’t move_ when he talked. Or smiled. _So_ weird.”

Liam grinned. “Was he a decent teacher?”

“I don’t know, I never pay attention in English,” Vicki said. “I don’t even like reading and I just BS my way through the essays two days before they’re due, it’s cake.”

“No reading?” he asked.

“I know, isn’t it weird?” Seph sighed with mock disappointment. “I’ve been trying to convince her of the many amazing things about books, but so far the only one she’s liked was _Micro_ by Michael Crichton.”

“Sci-fi,” Liam said with a grin. “I’m more of a fantasy guy myself, but Micro was good.”

“Why would you read stuff about dragons and swords and magic?” Vicki said, waving her hands around. “It’s _boring_. It’s never real, so what does it matter?”

“It’s an _escape_ ,” Seph protested. “Fantasy is a way to live someone else’s life for a few hours! _And_ , you know, the characters in them are still human, or they’re written by a human, so either way it’s a fascinating way to learn about people. Sixty percent of my social skills come from books.” She glanced at Liam. “The other forty is psych classes.”

“No, that _might_ have been true, but since you met me it’s like forty from psych, twenty from books, and forty from me,” Vicki said proudly.

“You also gave me swearing,” Seph said. “So I’m not sure you can brag.”

“Of course I can. You don’t sound like a prude anymore.”

Liam looked between them. “How long have you been friends?”

“We met at the end of freshman year,” Seph said. “Psych class. The TA was an idiot. Vick and I ended up in a study group together, and everyone _else_ got super off task. We ended up being the only people to score above a sixty on the final, and then Matthews graded it on a curve.” She smirked.

“Good times,” Vicki said with satisfaction. “Oh, lookie, food! Thanks _so_ much,” she said, flashing a megawatt smile at the waiter, who smiled dazedly back and retreated to the counter.

Seph tasted her daily special, which seemed to be a concoction involving vanilla ice cream, fudge sauce, cookie dough, and crushed Oreos. “That waiter’s sneaking looks at you,” she said to Vicki.

“Of course she is, I’m fabulous.” Vicki looked up and shot the waiter a wink. Her ears turned bright red and she looked away.

“You’re tormenting the poor woman,” Liam said with a grin.

“Is that what you did to Seph?” Vicki asked innocently.

Seph dropped her spoon. “Vicki.”

“Just asking.”

“No, I did not ‘torment’ Seph,” Liam said pleasantly. “If anything, it was the other way around. She didn’t deign to speak to me for months.”

“It’s generally not encouraged to flirt with the customers at random,” Seph said tartly, returning to her ice cream. She was relieved that Vicki didn’t seem to bother Liam. Seph knew enough about people to know that Vicki’s bluntness could be disconcerting.

Liam shook his head. “I tried to talk to her for three months before I figured out she just wasn’t picking up on my clues,” he told Vicki. “Then I decided to be blunt and I just asked her to sit with me.”

“That was a week and a half ago,” Seph finished, then looked at him. “You were really trying to talk to me for three months?”

 _“Yes,”_ he said. Vicki laughed, but Seph was busy turning over all their interactions in her head, fitting it into a new pattern. _Oh._

“Good thing you went for the ace,” Vicki said. “She’s clueless about romance.”

“I wouldn’t go _that_ far,” Liam said, wrapping an arm around Seph’s shoulders.

Vicki grinned at them. “You guys are making me feel my singlehood right now.”

“Wait,” Seph said. “Leah?”

 _“Hell_ no, she had like four girls on her string, met us all at the same bar too, didn’t I tell you that this morning?”

“No.”

“Oh. Oops. Well, she did, so I dumped her last night at that party you wouldn’t come to.”

Seph shrugged. “I have a quiz in two days.”

“Yeah, yeah, nerd girl,” Vicki said.

“Don’t let her fool you,” Seph told Liam. “She studies just as much as I do, and gets better grades.”

“I have easier classes,” Vicki corrected.

The waiter brought them a bill.

Liam paid (in cash, as usual) without batting an eye.

Vicki’s phone rang as they were leaving the ice cream shop. “I gotta take this, it’s Brett,” she said, and stepped away. “Yeah?”

“Brett?” Liam asked.

Seph took his hand. It already felt natural. “Her twin brother. He’s in some of our classes. Your eye looks much better.”

Liam ran his fingers over it. The bruise was already mostly faded. His lip was sealed, too, and no longer swollen. “I heal quickly, and it didn’t break my nose.”

“Lucky,” she said with a grin.

Vicki came back to them, wearing an expression that was equal parts gleeful and horrified. Seph frowned. “What’s up?”

“Did you hear about Professor Abbott?” Vicki asked.

Seph glanced at Liam. “No, what happened?”

“He’s been fired.” Vicki took a breath. “Because he’s up on charges of sexual harassment and child sex abuse. Apparently the evidence is like _really_ damning, and the police aren’t talking about how they got it yet.”

Seph’s eyes were wide. “No way.”

“Yes way. Brett was in class when they went to get him.” Vicki shook her head. “This is insane. I mean, we always suspected he was weird to the TAs, but still…”

“At least he’s been caught,” Seph said. She had a sneaking suspicion of exactly _how_ that had happened, but she didn’t want to voice it with Vicki there. It was an effort not to stare at Liam.

“Yeah, no kidding.” Vicki tapped her phone against her palm. “Okay, but seriously, I have to go. I’m through with Leah, but one of the other girls I met last night was _really_ cute, and I’m hoping the number I found written on my arm this morning is hers.”

“You’re a menace,” Seph said.

“I know. Bye!” Vicki waved and took off down the street.

Seph turned on Liam. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that evidence against Abbott, would you?”

His expression was perfectly innocent. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Nice try,” Seph said. “You know, I’m not _mad._ Impressed, if anything. And grateful–he was a creep.”

Liam smirked. “I admit nothing.”

“Yeah, that’s akin to a full confession,” Seph said, a smile creeping onto her face. “How did you–if it had been you, how would you have done it? Hypothetically.”

Liam started walking down the street. “Hypothetically? I might have some PI skills on my hands. Hypothetically, I might have a friend who’s a hacker to help me get incriminating pictures and conversations from his phone. Hypothetically, I might collect the evidence and turn it in to the police anonymously.”

“Hypothetically, that’s a very clever plan,” Seph said.

“I know.” Liam grinned at her.

She found herself laughing.

Seph liked Liam. A lot. He was smart and funny and attractive, and _interesting_ . He liked reading, he liked Vicki, he liked _her_ , and he’d broken her into the aquarium for their first date. And when she’d mentioned a creepy professor, he’d gone and found a way to get him arrested and imprisoned for things Seph had only suspected.

But she didn’t really know much about him. Even his last name.

 

They ended up down at the edge of the river, sitting on a dock and throwing French fries to the seagulls while sharing clam strips from Ivar’s, swapping stories about their college years. Liam had gone to Cornell, he said, and been on the equestrian team there, but dropped out his junior year.

The sun crept down in the sky. Liam wrapped his arm around Seph and she leaned into him, watching their shadows stretch out over the waves in front of them.

“Liam,” she said quietly.

He turned into her, breath ruffling her hair. Seph closed her eyes. “Yes?”

“Why are you so careful not to tell me anything about yourself?” she asked.

“I just told you rather a lot of stories from my past,” he said slowly.

“Yeah, but–college. And don’t think I haven’t noticed that I still don’t know your last name. Or where you live. Or what you do for work. Even your phone number. And, look, I get that you probably have a reason that you’ve kept those things from me. But I’m not going to date someone when I have no idea how to even contact you.”

Liam paused. “Are we dating?”

“I mean. Dates. Felonies. Making out in the aquarium at midnight. I’m planning on introducing you as my boyfriend, unless you’d prefer otherwise.” Seph didn’t add that he would need a damn good reason to keep going like this and _not_ call himself her boyfriend.

“You would… want to introduce me to your friends?”

“Obviously.”

He laughed softly. Seph felt more than heard it. “Fair enough. Would it suffice to give you my phone number?”

“And a job,” she said. “That I can tell people when they ask. And don’t say ‘unemployed,’ I know you’re not, your clothes are _way_ too nice. Unless you’re a secret bank robber.”

“Not a bank robber,” he said, amused. “You can tell people I’m an entrepreneur, if you like. I run an Internet marketing company.”

“That’ll work,” Seph said. “But is it the truth?”

He didn’t answer.

She pulled back a bit and looked up to meet his gray eyes. “I don’t need the _real_ answer if you can’t tell me,” she said quietly. “I just want to know whether I’m telling people a lie.”

Liam’s throat moved. “It’s… not true,” he admitted.

He didn’t look away.

“Okay,” Seph said, and buried her head in his chest again. “See, that wasn’t so bad.”

Liam pulled her closer. “I don’t deserve you,” he breathed, so quietly she thought she’d imagined it.

“I say you do,” she whispered back.

He held her on the end of the pier until the sun went down, and then he walked her back to her dorm. Seph picked his pockets four times on the way, getting his wallet twice, his phone once, and a pen once, then took his watch when he wasn’t paying attention. Liam looked at her with amazement every time. Seph admitted that sometimes she lifted wallets off of rich tourists if she was hard up for cash. Liam kissed her and called her a “proper criminal” with laughter in his voice.

They spent several minutes kissing in the hall at the base of the stairs. Liam’s lips trailed down Seph’s throat and she tipped her head back, hands in his hair, loving the way he backed her up against the wall like this.

“Goodnight, Persephone,” he whispered, and then he was gone.

Seph blinked and made her way upstairs, hoping her roommate Andrea would be too tired to notice the silly smile on her face.

 

Seph’s friends loved Liam when they met him that Monday. Andrea and a few other kids on Seph’s hall coordinated with one of the frat houses to throw a party, and it was quite a rager, and Seph let herself loose in a way she usually didn’t. She and Liam danced and drank and laughed. The way he looked at her in the flashing lights was intoxicating: like he wanted her, all of her, not just making out but the talking and laughing and dancing. Like a man who’d found something he thought he’d never have. Seph recognized that look, because it was how she felt about him.

He gave her his phone number.

Seph called him Tuesday night and they talked for an hour, then she fell asleep with her phone in her hand and dreamed about him. In the dream, they were on a clifftop, and walking hand in hand, and then Liam turned to look at the waves, and she was terrified for a second that he was going to jump, and it wasn’t until he turned back and kissed her again that she realized she hadn’t even considered that if he jumped he’d drag her over with him. Seph woke up disoriented and unsettled, but told herself _it’s just a dream_ and went back to sleep, and when she woke up the next morning she didn’t remember it at all.

 

A month after she and Liam started dating for real, Seph was leaving Sabina’s after a morning spent working to clean up the patio for winter, thinking about lunch with Liam at that new creperie a few blocks away, when her phone rang.

She pulled it out. _Liam._ Seph hit the green button and put it to her ear. “Hey, Liam.”

“Hey–Seph.” He sounded tense.

“Is everything okay?”

“Ah–well, yes and no. I’m fine, but something’s– _shit_ –come up. With–work. I have to cancel today.”

“Oh-kay, that’s fine,” Seph said. “I don’t care about that, obviously I’ll miss you but–Liam, are you _sure_ you’re fine? Because you don’t sound fine.”

“I’ll be okay,” he said, which Seph recognized didn’t really answer her question. “I’ll talk to you later. Say hi to Vicki for me.”

The line went dead.

Seph pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. He’d been pretty honest about the fact that there were things he couldn’t tell her about his life, and Seph had basically told him what she did at the dock the week after they met for real: either tell me the truth or tell me you can’t tell me. It had worked, more or less. She had a phone number and knew where his apartment was, and he knew her dorm room, and they went on dates and talked about politics and history and books and people and music. She knew the more important things about him: he hated sugary drinks and candy but loved chocolate; he had a fondness for muscle cars, owned a green Camaro and did illegal drag races with it (she’d gone to a few and had a blast); he spoke German and disliked almost everyone as irritating, sheeplike, and shallow (on which point Seph could not disagree). She knew him well enough to know this was unusual behavior. And she was worried.

Seph dialed a different number from memory.

“Brett’s Pizza Parlor, free pizza with any order of my sexy sexy times, how may I service you today?”

“Brett, it’s Persephone, and no, I’m not ordering sexy times from you,” Seph said.

“Damn it.” Brett dropped the act. “What’s up? Is my sister hanging from a chandelier again?”

“It’s midday,” Seph said. “That happened once and she was drunk out of her mind.”

“It’s midday _on a Saturday_ and this is Vicki we’re talking about,” Brett said. “You can never be too careful.”

“Good point.”

“So what’s up?”

“I need a favor.”

“Sexy times?” Brett suggested.

Seph rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, Brett, _no_. You’re the only guy in computer sciences who’s even halfway decent with girls; why do you resort to this terrible flirting?”

He sighed. “I live in hope.”

“I have a boyfriend,” Seph reminded him.

“That’s why it’s _hope_ and not _plans_ ,” he said, laughing. “What can I do for you?”

Seph took a breath. “Can you track a phone if I give you the number?”

“I can’t,” Brett said. “But Reese can, give me a sec. Reese!” he shouted.

“Blow my eardrums out, why don’t you,” Seph said.

“Sorry.” Brett’s voice became muffled; there was a quick conversation and then he asked for the phone number. Seph rattled it off from memory.

“It’ll be a few minutes, want to just stay on the line?” Brett asked.

“Sure.”

“So, how’s life?” Brett asked. “I hear Vicki thinks your boyfriend is the shit.”

There was no jealousy in his voice. Seph knew Brett’s flirting with her was ninety percent joke and ten percent practice. “They get along well,” she said. “It’s a little bit scary, actually. Liam showed us how to sneak into that concert site last week, and I’m pretty sure Vicki never plans on paying for a ticket again.”

“Well, that’s good,” Brett said. “She’s broke.”

“We both are.” Seph made a face.

Brett shuffled around. “Did you see the news last night?”

“Another bank robbery,” Seph said with a sigh. “I don’t know _what_ Loki’s thinking. It’s like he _wants_ Supernova to keep coming after him. He’s stolen, what, six million in the last few months?”

“Seven,” Brett said. “Everyone’s got theories but no one knows his end game.”

“Power,” Seph said. “Money and fear equal power.”

Brett snorted. “How do you know?”

“Psych classes,” Seph said. “Honestly, it’s not a stretch.”

“I guess. Hey, Reese, you got that trace yet?”

“Sending it,” Reese said in the background, then more muffled instructions.

Brett listened. “Okay, Seph, here’s how this works. She’s emailed you a link. For the next half hour, you can trace the phone, after that your time’s up. Click the link and you’re golden.”

“Awesome,” Seph said. “Thanks so much, Brett.”

“You owe me,” he reminded her.

“Yeah.”

“See ya,” Brett said, and hung up.

 

The trace led Seph to Harvard Square.

It was teeming with people. She stood on her tiptoes, for once wishing she were taller so she could see. A few people looked at her weird, but Seph just stared at them until they hurried on their way.

 _This says he’s just up ahead_ , Seph thought, but she couldn’t see any trace of Liam’s tall, lean frame, his dark hair and easy grace. She’d noticed in the past that he had a way of walking that tended to make people unconsciously clear out of his way, but there was no Liam-bubble in the crowds. _So where…_

That was when the subway tunnel blew up.

People screamed. Seph saw several of them start sliding into the hole in the ground. The ground tipped and groaned beneath her feet; Seph grabbed a light post. Fear ate at her mind and she struggled to control it. The ground beneath Boston was riddled with tunnels, catacombs, sewers, subway rail lines, basements.

Someone slid past her.

Seph grabbed hold of the person. A kid, no more than ten, his green eyes bright with terror. She shoved him back up the street and he took off running.

She was a little afraid to let go of her post. But she had to.

Seph braced herself and took off up the sloping street.

_Liam. Liam was back there._

The ground settled. Dust choked the air but at least the shaking had stopped. Things settled into a tense watchfulness.

“Loki!” someone shouted.

Screams.

Seph spun around, panting.

There was Supernova, descending from the sky like an angel or a god, floating upright and backlit by the sun. She couldn’t see his face from here but she knew it’d be set in that righteously determined cast the news channels loved to show, his copper-gold skin glowing in the light.

So. If Supernova was here, that meant…

Seph looked down at her phone. She only had two minutes left on the trace, but it still said Liam was back there. Near the superhero who protected the city, who unofficially ruled it, and his nemesis. On the other side of the hole in the middle of the street.

“Oh, fuck you, Liam,” she whispered, and bolted off to the side.

Seph crept up the street. She ducked behind cars and kept to the sidewalk, past people huddled terrified in shop entrances. A few tried to beckon her inside to take cover, but she shook her head and cept going. An eerie silence descended. Somewhere up ahead was Loki–she could see Supernova searching, face concealed by the famous gold-and-red mask as he floated slowly through the dust clouds. In and out of sight.

Seph saw a few bodies up ahead. _No. Liam. Don’t be Liam. You can’t be dead._

“Nova!” someone shouted up ahead. “Here I am, you buffoon! I see even blowing up a subway tunnel with me in it failed, huh?”

 _So_ Nova _blew up the tunnel,_ Seph thought distantly, _how interesting_. She crouched behind a car, looking in the direction the voice had come from.

“Where are you, Loki?” Nova boomed. “Coward!”

Loki laughed, cruel and cold and–familiar?  “I’m not the coward here, my dear friend.”

“Then stop hiding,” Nova shouted back.

Seph looked at her phone. The trace time was up. _Shit._

She didn’t want to call Liam–didn’t want to risk outing him if he was hiding. But his last location was just up ahead. Where the villain and the hero were.

She took a deep breath and slipped out into the street.

Seph was near the pile of bodies–none of them looked like Liam, thank God–when she heard footsteps to her left.

She instantly hit the ground, lying flat on her stomach with her head on her arms, eyes slitted.

A tall figure strode out of the dust, dressed in black. No cape, just military-issue cargo pants and a hooded leather jacket. And, of course, the mask, worked of black and gold, the man nicknamed Loki’s only concession to the hero-and-villain dynamic that dominated so many cities. It hid his face almost completely, and hood concealed his hair. Black gloves covered his hands. “Here I am, Nova,” he shouted, mocking. “Come and get me if you can.”

Seph squinted at Loki. It was the first time she’d seen him in person. Her heart pounded. Few people survived being near one of these fights, simply because Nova’s power was so destructive. But she couldn’t run. She had to make sure Liam wasn’t on the other side of–this was an intersection. Loki was in the middle. She was near the southwest end. She had to cross it, check the northeast corner, and then get the hell out of here.

Which meant she had to get past Loki without Nova blasting her into pieces.

As if Seph had summoned him with the thought, one of Nova’s light-heat blasts slammed into the pavement, right where Loki stood. The heat scorched her face. She smelled burned hair.

When the beam stopped, the pavement was scorched and empty.

Loki shimmered into view off to the side, laughing. “Nice try, Nova.”

Another blast. Loki dissolved right before it hit. His power was illusion. Seph had no idea where he actually was–probably invisible somewhere–but she didn’t care. He’d drawn Nova’s fire down the street. Now was her best chance.

She took a deep breath, pushed herself up, and started running.

Loki reappeared dead ahead.

Nova shouted something ahead.

_Fuck fuck fuck they came back this way_

Seph ran harder.  

The Loki standing there saw her. Dissolved.

The air heated.

Seph knew she was about to die.

A body slammed into her. An explosion shook the world and Seph passed out.

 

When she opened her eyes, the dust was everywhere.

Seph tried to talk.

“Shhh,” someone hissed.

She realized there was a body pressing down above her own. Shielding her.

Seph blinked. Once, twice, three times. Her vision wouldn’t focus.

She remembered–a blast. Realizing Loki had come back up the street and put her right in Nova’s blast range. Then someone tackling her out of the way.

Her eyes finally started working again, and Seph would’ve gasped but a gloved hand clamped down on her mouth.

That was Loki crouched above her.

“Can you walk?” he breathed.

She tested her arms and legs. Nodded beneath his hand.

“If I let go, are you going to scream?”

Slowly, she shook her head.

He removed his hand from her mouth carefully.

Seph didn’t make a sound.

He’d just saved her life.

She looked closer. Beneath the hood and the mask, his eyes were light gray.

Seph went rigid. She knew those eyes. And she knew the scar that crossed the left side of his lips, the only part of his face visible beneath the mask.

Loki pulled back a little, mouth tightening.

“Where is he?” she whispered.

Loki pointed behind and above them. Then his fist tightened, and Seph saw a gleam of green light in his eyes as, down the street, another figure of himself appeared, half visible through the dust. A light-beam blasted the area.

“Come on, Loki,” Nova boomed. “Stop hiding from me.”

“You have to run,” Loki whispered. Desperation edged his words. “Get out of here.”

“What about you?” she breathed, unable to–not care.

He smiled. It was dark and cruel and sharp like blades. “I’m Loki,” he murmured. “Nova couldn’t hurt me if he tried. I’ll draw him off. _Go._ ”

Seph yanked him down and kissed him hard and fast on the lips, and then she rolled aside and scrambled up and ran.

Light blasted a car near her. It burst into flames and exploded a second later, throwing Seph forward. She rolled like her krav maga instructor taught her, popped up, and pressed herself into the side of a building.

A _whoosh_ blasted some of the dust out of the street. Nova’s winds.

And there was Loki, standing in the center, near the sinkhole. Slumping. Even from here, Seph could see the green-tipped dart in the side of his neck.

Nova landed on the street.

Four militia soldiers appeared from the edges of the street, holstering weapons. Nova spoke to them briefly and vanished. One of them pulled out a set of heavy manacles and clamped them down on Loki’s hands, binding them together so his fingers wouldn’t be able to move more than a little. And for the first time, real fear hit Seph. True, stomach-twisting terror.

Before she knew it, she was running again.

He was a criminal. He’d robbed banks, killed bystanders in the wake of his war with Nova.

 _But Nova’s killed just as many,_ Seph thought. _If not more._

She knew this wasn’t what most people would consider ‘right’. She didn’t care.

Before the guards noticed her, she adopted a limp and shook her hair into her face. “Hello?” she called out.

They turned.

“Just a civvie,” one of them muttered.

Seph came closer, head down. The dust in her hair was making it at least a few shades lighter, and if she could keep them from getting a good look at her face…

Vicki could always alibi her out later.

“My brother’s in there,” she said, making her voice shaky and pitching it higher than usual.

“Miss, you should wait for rescue personnel,” one of the soldiers said kindly but firmly.

She didn’t want to kill these men. Seph knew _how_ to kill someone but she’d never done it and they weren’t bad people.

“No, I–I need to find him,” she said. “Please–”

She was almost close enough.

Loki lifted his head, clearly fighting to stay conscious. “No,” he moaned.

One of the guards kicked him viciously. “Shut it,” he snarled. “You’re finally getting what you deserve, asshole.”

The soldier nearest Seph reached for her. “Miss–”

She grabbed his arm and broke it in one clean motion.

He howled.

She put his partner on the ground. Spun and took out broken-arm guy, using his body to block the line of fire of the other two. They charged for her, but Seph was faster. Years of training thrummed in her limbs and she took them all down in seconds.

Not without a cost. There was a bloody scrape on her left thigh and she was pretty sure at least two of her fingers were dislocated. Her nose was bleeding and she’d probably have a hell of a black eye tomorrow– _just like Liam that second week_ –but nothing was broken.

She fished around in the lead guard’s pockets, found the key to Loki’s manacles, and started dragging him.

Down the street.

Into an alley.

Head down. Thanking her stars the dust would obscure any cameras that hadn’t been taken out by Nova’s blasts.

Seph used the bottom of her shirt to grasp the key and unlock Loki’s shackles, then wipe out the inside so they wouldn’t get his fingerprints from them, or hers on them. She left both key and creepy mitten-style manacles on the ground, heaved him upright, and staggered further down the narrow twisting alley. That was the nice thing about Boston. All the old streets and old buildings turned it into a ridiculously easy place to vanish.

She lugged Loki along until her muscles felt like jelly, and then clumsily dumped him behind a dumpster. He landed at an awkward angle.

“Sorry, sorry,” she whispered, and propped him up until he looked like he was just some drunk passed out on the sidewalk. “I’ll be right back, don’t move.”

She took off at a jog.

Seph, Vicki, and Vicki’s ex-girlfriend Adie had once spent an afternoon running from the police in this area. She knew that up ahead there was a gas station with a bathroom around the back. You had to get the key from inside, but Liam had been teaching Seph how to pick locks and given her a pick set two weeks ago that she carried in her shoulder bag. Seph pulled them out and got the door open in less than a minute–she’d have to brag to Liam about that later–and slipped into the bathroom.

It was grungy and it stank, but at least the sink worked.

Seph looked at herself in the pockmarked mirror. She was a mess. Dust in her hair, dirt and grime streaking her clothes and arms, blood and more dirt on her face. Her left eye was already swelling; her jeans were torn and she was bleeding from the laceration on her leg. And she had three fingers that were crooked and ridiculously painful.

“Fuck,” Seph hissed, grabbed them, and pulled them straight.

Her fingers popped back into their sockets with a burst of pain that lapsed into a blessed relief. They were still stiff, still hurt like hell, but at least now she could flex them more or less normally.

She used multiple paper towels to clean the blood off her face and the streaks of grime and dust off her clothes and arms. She’d need to take a real shower, but at least now she didn’t look like she’d just been in a fight.

Some of the paper towels she used to clean off the scrape on her leg. She needed to bandage it somehow… but she had no tape, or–

Her boots. Seph looked down. They had decorative laces on the fronts that didn’t actually do anything; the ankle boots went on and off with the zippers on their heels.

Seph yanked out one of the laces, used it to tie some paper towels around her leg and tugged her skirt down farther than she usually wore it to hide the injury. Then she pulled off the other lace and jammed it into her purse to look like it was deliberate.

Next, her hair. She shook it out vigorously, which got some of the dust, but not all. Seph used damp paper towels to make it presentable and tugged a bit down over her forehead in a vaguely emo style to at least partially hide her swelling eye.

One last mirror check to make sure she was presentable, and Seph was back out the door. She locked it behind herself and took off down the narrow side street.

Sirens wailed not far away.

The dumpster came into view up ahead.

Seph huffed out a breath in relief and went around to the other side.

Loki was gone.

 

She told Vicki and Brett and Vicki’s new maybe-girlfriend Kelli that she’d been sparring at the dojo and things got a little out of hand to explain her black eye. She bandaged her leg herself with hydrogen peroxide and gauze and athlete’s tape from Rite Aid and wore long skirts or pants to hide the injury, glad it didn’t need stitches. Probably. She’d have a scar, but that was okay. Seph could walk without limping and it wasn’t serious enough to go to the hospital for. 

Liam’s number was disconnected. When she went to his apartment, it was empty, and the landlady told her the young man living there had moved out a few days ago, no idea where he was going next. Seph had hated the woman for the pity in her eyes and left with only a curt “thank you”. 

He didn’t come to Sabina’s that Wednesday for the first time in almost eight months. 

Seph couldn’t believe he’d first walked into the quirky Italian place only eight months ago. It felt like so much longer. 

Loki was gone. No one knew how he’d escaped Supernova that day, only that the soldiers left behind to prepare the villain for transport were found unconscious but alive, two of them with broken ribs and one with a broken arm but nothing life-threatening. The manacles were in an alley, wiped clean of prints, and none of the cameras had gotten anything more than a clear shot of Loki being dragged into an alley by a short, indistinct figure. The cops had an APB out for a young woman of African American appearance with curly hair and a narrow face, somewhere between five foot three and five foot eight, which didn’t worry Seph, since there were thousands of people in Boston who matched that description. Although she did ask Vicki to say that if anyone asked, Seph was with her that afternoon. Vicki gave her a raised eyebrow but agreed without asking questions. 

Two Wednesdays after the explosion in Harvard Square, Seph was back at Sabina’s, serving pizza and wine and pasta and Caesar salads to her customers, unable to stop her heart leaping every time the door opened when she wasn’t looking. But for more than a week now, none of those entrances had been him. 

She sighed and carried a stack of empty plates back to the kitchen. 

She missed him. So much. 

But maybe it was time to accept that he’d cut his losses and moved on. 

She couldn’t blame him, really. She was surprised he’d spent as much time with her as he had. It had been dangerous. For both of them. 

The door alert chimed. 

“Dom?” she said, stacking the plates by the sink.

“Got it.” He wiped his hands and headed out into the restaurant. 

He was back a minute later with an odd look on his face. “Seph, he wants to talk to you. I can send him away if you want.” 

Seph squinted at him, trying and failing to crush her hope. “What?” 

“It’s your boyfriend,” Dom said. “Ex-boyfriend? He stopped coming and you haven’t said anything–”

“I need to talk to him,” Seph said. It didn’t sound like her own voice. “Can you cover my section?” 

“It’s winding down and you’re almost done,” Dom said. “Just clock out.” 

“Thanks,” her mouth said, and then she was moving, pushing out into the restaurant. 

And there he was. Liam. Leaning on the wall by the door. Every bit as dangerous and sexy and elegant as she remembered. 

Seph walked over to him as if in a dream. 

He looked down at her. It was the first time Seph had ever seen uncertainty in his eyes. 

“Can we… talk?” he said quietly. 

“Outside,” she said. 

He nodded. Held the doors open. They walked outside.

“Persephone,” he breathed. 

She understood exactly how big a risk this had been for him to come back. But he’d taken it. For  _ her _ . 

“Liam,” she said. “Is that your real name?” 

“As real as any of them,” he said. 

“Right. I know two names for you know.” Seph studied him. “They both suit you.”

His lips quirked. 

“Why did you come back?” she said. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I came back to say thank you.” 

“You saved my life,” she said simply. “And it got you caught. The least I could do was return the favor.” 

“How did you…”

“Remember asking me about the things I’m good at?” Seph asked. 

He nodded. 

“Krav maga was one of them. I didn’t tell you. I don’t tell anyone. I like being underestimated.” She shrugged. 

Liam–Loki–smiled suddenly, and she could see affection and admiration shining in his eyes. “You’re really something,” he said softly. 

“Thanks?” 

“It was a compliment.”

She waited. 

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m–sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll leave you alone, from now on–I just wanted to–”

Seph grabbed his arm when he started to turn away. There was pain and regret and something else in his eyes when he looked at her. 

“Who said I wanted you to leave me alone?” she asked. 

Liam froze. His eyes widened fractionally–those gray eyes, so familiar, the color that had tipped her off to who was really protecting her on that broken street–and his scarred lips parted, but he didn’t say anything. 

“I can’t imagine you’d still want me,” he said, voice rough. It was the most vulnerable Seph had ever seen him, and she knew she was getting something no one else did: Liam at his core. 

“So I’ve been dating a supervillain,” she said. “It’s not like I’m a saint. And guess what? The so-called hero Supernova’s killed more innocent bystanders than you. I don’t know what your endgame is. But I know  _ you.  _ And I know you haven’t been hanging around the last few months because you were using me for sex, since you never actually slept with me–oh.” She paused. “Is this why?” 

Liam lifted one hand and gently traced her jawline. “Yes,” he admitted. “I didn’t… I care about you. I didn’t want to go that far… when you didn’t know the truth.”

“Oh,” Seph said softly. A lot of things made more sense now. “See, that proves my point. You care.” She leaned into his touch slightly. Almost unconsciously. “Was saying thank you the only reason you came back?” she whispered. 

“No,” Liam said. “No, I–I had to see whether you were–whether you were afraid of me now. And even if you were, seeing you one more time face-to-face would’ve been enough. I checked up on you–I knew you were fine.”

“I didn’t see you,” she said suspiciously. 

For a second, Liam’s eyes glowed green, which she realized was his tell; every superhuman had one. Nova’s hands turned red-hot when he used his power. “I can turn invisible, Seph,” he reminded her, the smirk she loved so much back on his face. “Of course you didn’t see me.” 

“Stalker,” she said, and kissed him. 

Liam kissed her back, one hand in her hair and the other wrapped around her waist, pulling her forward until there was no space between them. Seph threw her arms around his shoulders and let it be the only thing she knew. 

“Are you off work?” Liam whispered. 

“Yes.” 

“Want to come back to my apartment?” 

“You moved out.” 

“My real apartment.” 

Seph blinked. “Let me guess, a penthouse suite? All glass and chrome and beautiful views?” 

Liam cocked his head. “You’re not far off.”

“Took you long enough,” Seph said with a grin. 

 

After, they stood on his balcony. 

The wind off the ocean was cold. Seph had stolen one of his shirts; it covered her butt (barely) and the sleeves hung over her hands, but she still shivered. Liam tucked her into his side. 

“Stay here with me,” he said into her hair. “Seph, I–I’ve never felt like this for anyone else. I know I’m not the take-home-to-meet-the-parents type–” there was that smirk again– “but I want you.” 

“Hmm,” Seph said lazily. “Move in with a supervillain? Oh dearie me, whatever will Papa think?” 

He traced the outline of her breast through her shirt and Seph momentarily lost her train of thought. “Partners in crime,” he said onto her lips. “Be the queen to my king, Seph.”

“I want to get my degree first,” she said.

Liam laughed. “You do that. And then you come home to me.” 

“And help you rob banks?” 

“I seem to remember you’ve got some impressive ass-kicking skills.”

“That I do,” Seph said thoughtfully. “Mmmm. Yeah, I like this deal.” 

Liam turned and pointed at the city. “One day, all of this will be ours.” 

Seph looked out at it. High rises and slums, docks and monuments on hills. She’d grown up twenty minutes outside of Boston, and she loved this damn city to pieces. 

She decided she liked how the future looked in Liam’s vision. 

“Let’s go get it, partner,” she said. 

Liam responded with a wicked smile. 


End file.
